


Checkmate

by Zoya113



Category: The Guy Who Didn't Like Musicals - Team StarKid
Genre: Ambition! Schaffer AU, Gen, Gift Work, Villain Schaffer content, honestly I think there’s a wc quote in there, military stuff, some mentions of violence? Nothing very graphic thougu
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-04
Updated: 2020-06-04
Packaged: 2021-03-03 21:08:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,513
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24532048
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zoya113/pseuds/Zoya113
Summary: PEIP has been getting soft under John’s rule. Schaffer is going to take it upon herself to fix that, no matter what the cost.Gift work for pidgeon !
Comments: 4
Kudos: 7





	Checkmate

**Author's Note:**

  * For [writerbird_8](https://archiveofourown.org/users/writerbird_8/gifts).



> Shfbdn I haven’t done sword stuff in ages and my sister who I usually ask about military stuff skipped the swordsmanship course so that was a bit of an f if I got anything wrong abt the swords I’m gonna sue myself ahah I hope this isn’t a total disaster but thank you for letting me write it 🥺💕

“I don’t want to do it again,” the soldier’s parry was much weaker than before, there was no resistance when Schaffer’s sword hit his. “I’ve had enough.” He didn’t riposte, he just let her break through. 

Schaffer wasn’t particularly patient today. The off-time strikes of wooden practice swords smacking against each other was quickly becoming grinding. They were all doing it wrong too, there was no rhythm behind their movements, there was so much training left to do.

“I can’t,” the private repeated himself as Schaeffer broke through his block again. She hardly had to force it. 

“It’s because you’re holding it wrong, move your other hand down,” she corrected him. “You can’t get lazy about it.”

His eyes were following her dizzily, trying to predict and counter her moves but to her disappointment, not quite getting either. 

“If you don’t have the energy to block or swing what do you do?” She asked, switching back to parrying his very poorly timed slashes. 

“I don’t know,” he answered honestly, stepping back, his chest heaving as he made a frail attempt at defending his shoulder from her next strike.

“Come on. Use your brain. Imagine you’re out in the field, what are you going to do?” She pressed, she could almost take her time getting her sword into a position to block his swing. “That was messy. You have to cut cleaner or it won’t do anything.”

“I said I don’t know, Colonel!” He yelped, both his hands wrapped around the grip again as he held his sword over his head to block any upcoming moves, his eyes clenched shut.

“Alright,” she heaved a sigh. She let him panic for a few seconds before thrusting her practice sword at his stomach, letting the private realise his mistake a moment too late. “Okay!” She raised her voice to get the attention of all the privates she was in charge of that morning. “Get in file,” she called, watching them all scurry back to their places. But she clamped a hand around the shoulder of the private she had been training. His practice gear was coated in sweat.

“Huh?” 

“Out on the field that’d get you killed,” she told him matter-of-factly as she wiped her hand down on her pants. “You can’t just say ‘I don’t know,’ that’s not how it works.” 

“But-“

“You don’t get excuses out in the field either,” Schaffer gave the private a shove to get him in line with the others, and no one spoke a word. 

“Let me try and get it again then, just show me what to do,” the cadet’s hands worked anxiously at the practice sword in his hand. It was never good to disappoint the colonel.

“Out there you don’t get excuses and you certainly don’t get second chances either, you die,” she reminded them all, keeping an eye on the cadets who complied with an understanding nod, seeming to grasp that mentality.

“Affirmative,” came a wave of quiet murmurs. 

“Good. Private, twenty push ups for warm down and then head off to ablutions. You’ve finished early today.” She jerked her thumb over her shoulder at the door, not sparing the cadet another glance.

For some, ending practice early was considered a win, but those were the weak of the bunch. The soldiers who would take short cuts, who would prefer to relax over doing a proper job. Schaffer could spot them from miles away, those who weren’t quite as willing to die on the job as they were supposed to be.

“Practice is nothing like the battlefield,” she turned her back to the file, pacing to the other side of the hall to exchange her practice sword for her ceremonial one, listening to the sound that sung to her as she slid it from its metal sheath. It was nothing like the knocking of the wood. It was much more like music. “Who here thinks they’re ready for their field promotion?” 

Not surprisingly, only silence followed.

“No one?” She turned around, her eyes flicking between anyone who would dare look at her. “Come on, soldiers,” she tried to rally them. “No one thinks they’ve deserved it yet? No one wants it?” 

There were a few nods, no one could distinguish whether or not it was some sort of trick question. 

She made her way back down to the other end of the practice hall to present her ceremonial sword to them. “More fun than wooden swords, right?” 

They nodded out of obligation mostly and she snorted. “I know swordsmanship isn’t your dream class, but we can’t get everything we want, soldiers. Just wait until you get one of your own.” She drew a few practice swings through the air just to scrub away the feeling the clunky practice sword had left her with. “Hey, Donnelly, what’re your looking at the clock for? Not having fun?” She rested her hands up on her hips, one hand still around the grip of her sword. 

“Uh, no ma’am I just wanted to know-“

“Why don’t you come practice with me?” She cut him short, giving him a crooked grin and beckoning him to the centre of the hall. “You’ve got eighteen minutes left,” she answered for him. “And since you seem to think it could be over a little faster why don’t you at least get some worthy practice in and I’ll send you off early? Deal?” 

As much as she had phrased it like a good thing, everyone in the line knew that wasn’t quite the case. 

“You don’t get much sword practice in,” she commented to the onlookers. “You should all feel lucky I’ve sat my ass through the paperwork to get an extra hour in for you,” she waited patiently for Donnelly to shuffle his way over. “Your friends won’t get this sort of training until they’re CUO’s. You’re lucky.”

Private Donnelly had not quite stepped into range just yet. 

“What’s the problem, soldier? What’re you standing there for?” She raised an eyebrow, her hand fiddling with the sword’s grip in anticipation. 

“Oh, I was waiting for you to get your practice sword,” he answered, standing in form as not to risk breaking the thin ice he was on. “Can you use a ceremonial sword against a long sword? Does that happen?” He asked, attempting to seem inquisitive. 

“Anything can happen in the real world. Why not practice for it?” Her smile tugged up too far as she prepped her ceremonial sword. She had never really had a reason to use it, even for ceremonies it was just a decoration. But god if she hadn’t worked hard for it, she didn’t take all those classes for nothing. “You’ve got your gear on, private! Won’t need it if you’re ready. I’ll go easy on you,” she promised, waiting for him to nod before slashing out slowly enough to let him block it. She began to pace backwards.

“Colonel, don’t you think-” he was too focused on blocking her swings to put together much of a sentence.

“Just think of all the good practice you’re going to get. If you beat me I’ll talk to your CUO about a field promotion,” she offered, holding that win just out of his reach. “And I’ll make it happen. You’ve got good foot work too.” She took more joy in the focus in his eyes and how carefully and purposed his moves were, even if it was slow his head was in the right mind space now that there was an actual risk. 

It had been on her mind a lot lately, how easy things were getting around here. People were getting field promotions for punctuality or proper annunciation over the radio, last week a private received a field promotion for not complaining on a bivouac. Those are the kind of cadets who make weak leaders and raise weak soldiers.

“Good, Donnelly,” she praised as their swords clashed. It didn’t make quite the noise she liked - wood against mental didn’t sing the same, but it was better than before. “You know they’re only letting me teach you this at your rank because they don’t believe it’s as important as marksmanship or orienteering,” she stuck a foot back, keeping her ground now and swinging forward, the metal of her sword chipping into the wood and locking them in place. “But it’s something really special.”

The soldier swung his sword back to unlock it from hers, first mistake. He left a clear opening to his shoulder as he stumbled back, blindly raising his practice sword to shield his himself.

“If you’re good enough you can use this sort of skill with anything,” she didn’t move as fast at first, allowing him just a second to cover up his mistake. “Poles,” she suggested, swinging for his shoulder only to have him block it with a second to spare. “Pacesticks, crutches, planks,” she continued a little faster, slashing and swinging but aiming for his sword to give him the opportunity to parry. She was following him now as he tried to keep his distance. “Hell, if it came to it, even a sniper if it was out of ammo,” she faked out by darting her eyes to his left but swinging at his right side a moment later. She caught the guard of his sword under the point of hers. 

In a panic he let go - not wanting the blade anywhere near his hands. It clattered to the floor, leaving him open. 

“Lots of things, anything you can think of,” she didn’t stop, swinging to his left to persuade him to move right and collect his weapon, even allowing their circle to move around the forgotten weapon. “And that’s why you need your practice.” 

“Okay, okay- affirmative,” he corrected himself, flustered. “I get it ma’am-colonel Schaeffer,” he was still backing up, and she was still following. 

“Pick it up boy, you’ve got time left on the clock. Are you going to waste it?” She drew back the circle ever so slightly, titling her head down at the sword. “You were doing a hell of a good job.” 

His eyes widened, brows knitting together. He didn’t quite take his next step properly, his ankle twisting as he tried to weave their circle back to his sword. He wouldn’t take his eyes off her for a second. 

Schaffer swung out at the air just above him just to get his heart racing. “Come on. What are you waiting for? I know you don’t have anything else scheduled after this. I don’t mind holding you back if it seems you need more practice.” 

“Colonel,” he was moving in wider strides, navigating himself back towards the line of onlookers who were being oddly silent. 

“None of you want to come take over for your friend?” She only offered because she knew no one would take her up on it. 

Realising he had no other choice he doubled back, or maybe he was just trying to run down the clock. When he reached out a hand she lunged at it, feeling it graze the top of his hand just as he pulled it back.

“Colonel Schaffer,” he tried to reason with her futilely as he gripped his hand to his chest. “Let me get it.” 

“Sorry, soldier,” she stepped back. “I couldn’t help myself. You left yourself too open. You can’t do that.”

“Of course I’m open you made me drop my sword!” He spat, his hand anxiously darting out to try and collect it a second time. He didn’t want to look away but he couldn’t see where the grip of his sword was. “You’re going to hurt me.”

He leant down to protect his hands as he went for his sword, but she stuck out a boot and pushed him onto his back. 

He grunted as his head hit the floor, one hand instinctively resting over his stomach. He looked up at her in defeat, one eye shut so he wasn’t staring into the ceiling lights. 

“And do you have a problem with that?” She inquired. 

“Huh?” 

Now the people in like were making noise.  
And yet not a single one came to rescue their teammate. 

“You didn’t join PEIP thinking you’d get out without a scratch or two, did you?” she smoothed her free thumb over the cuts and scars on her face, brushing a loose curl of hair behind her ear. 

Donnelly reached frantically for his sword, Schaeffer even took the pity of giving him a second to locate it, it was kind of pathetic really, watching him scramble instead of finding an escape when she wasn’t even pinning him down. But the thought in the back of head made its way to the forefront of her mind and she planted the heel of her boot down on his chest. After all, what sort of a mentor was she if her examples weren’t functional? Worried mumbles and gasps raised from his fellow privates, someone called out a ‘wait’ but not quite loud enough for her to not be able to pretend she hadn’t heard. If they wanted to do something, they’d have to intervene.

She counted backwards from three, already having seen five different ways to counter back or save himself, he hadn’t taken a single one. Though with a surprisingly clear mind she raised her sword up, her palm so tight around the grip her knuckles were turning white. “This isn’t a job for the weak,” she declared through gritted teeth.

But she could barely follow through on the move before someone shouted her name a little too closely to her ear, wrapping a firm hand around her wrist to catch her just in time. “Schaffer! What are you doing!?”

“General Mcnamara,” she shut her eyes, letting a laugh rumble in her throat. “You almost scared me! I didn’t hear you, be careful who you’re sneaking up on,” she rolled her eyes. “Especially when they’re holding a sword.” Not a very clever move. 

“Yeah! What are you holding a sword for?” He was almost short of breath himself it seemed. 

When Schaffer glanced back down at her opponent though she realised he had managed to grab his sword, and was prepping to block the right way. 

“You’re not bad, soldier,” she grinned. 

“Head off to the med bay, son. You’re bleeding,” Mcnamara commented, not letting go of Schaeffer’s wrist. It made her squirm, she didn’t like being touched very much. 

“Oh.” He clutched at the hand Schaeffer had barely grazed. It was hardly bleeding. “Thank you, General.” He hurried to his feet, returning the practice sword to its spot before racing out of there like he couldn’t get away fast enough.

“You’re all dismissed,” Mcnamara announced, releasing Schaffer’s wrist. 

A tense silence filled the hall - the only noise was the awkward clutter of practice swords being slipped back into their places or soldiers hurrying out.

Mcnamara waited a beat longer to ensure they were alone before shooting her a glare. 

“What’s wrong?” She asked. 

“Care to take a walk with me to my office, colonel?” He gave an anxious laugh like perhaps he thought it was all a joke. 

She nodded, retrieving her sheath to tuck her sword back in. “What’s the problem, general?” 

He just beckoned her over as he started to walk. “What’s going on here, colonel?” He asked, a hopeful tone to his voice like perhaps he had seen it wrong.

“The swordsmanship classes I’ve been teaching?” She informed him. “I did all the paperwork, remember?”

“I was talking more about the actual sword you were swinging at an unarmed cadet,” he corrected her, his voice quickly losing its patience. “I don’t quite think he was ready for that!” 

“No, but didn’t you see?” She shook her head as they moved out into the hall, failing to keep the excitement in her voice down. “He had his sword in the end and he would’ve blocked. I gave him several openings and he took one.” 

“He had time to grab his sword because I intervened,” Mcnamara pointed out. 

“As a teammate would on the field,” she countered. “I thought it was very realistic.” She paused to let out a chuckle, elbowing him hard. “You didn’t think I would actually kill him did you?”

“No, but it’s not called for either way. They didn’t have enough practice.” 

“So I was giving him some! I think if we provide them with the right training while they’re young-“

“This isn’t another matter of ‘what you think,’ Schaffer, it’s about what we know. And what we know is that you don’t attack unarmed cadets.”

She scowled. John was being very difficult lately. “You’re getting soft, General. What do you think practice is? I’ve taught them all the correct moves, I’ve run them through all the scenarios. And it was going very successfully until you stopped us!” 

He pushed open his office door, pinching the bridge of his nose. “We don’t send cadets to the field for a reason, Schaffer. They aren’t prepared for what you’re giving them.” He moved over to his chair but was too tense to sit down.

“What’s the harm in teaching them early? No one gets sent out to the field until they’re sergeants if they’re lucky! They’re dead weight if we don’t start teaching them the important things early! What if-“ 

“Schaffer!” He cut her off. “That does not mean we throw them into the deep end!” He spoke like that was obvious. 

She clenched up a fist and shoved it into her pocket, her heart pumping fast. “That private received very valuable experience today! I bet he’s going to rank up so much faster than the rest, I’ll even mentor him myself!”

“No!” He threw his hands up. “That cadet was not comfortable with what just happened, Schaffer. No more of your theories. I think you need to be taken off training for a while.”

She didn’t know why, but she wanted to shout. She was building functional knowledge, improving real skills. It was important! She balled up her fists so they would stop shaking so much. “If I was in charge-“

“Which you aren’t,” he reminded her. “Even I would be a fool to mess around with the rules we’ve been following for years, and I’m the General.” Of course now he was trying to reason with her. Too scared to start a fight. 

She could feel her skin going red and gritted her teeth together. “General Mcnamara, I don’t want to foster excuse making. It’s more important to me I’m teaching them valuable, applicable skills,” she tried to explain, the ideas in her brain so big that she couldn’t find the words to explain them. “And excuses-“

“I know what you think about excuses, but let them make their mistakes so they get a chance to correct them.” He shook his head like he was asking her to stop, but she couldn’t back down from it this time. They had cycled through this argument so many times now, and he just never listened. 

“We can’t be soft on them!” She bit down on her lip after the words escaped, a fuzzy feeling in her mind that seemed to blur her thoughts. “No one was soft on me! Do you know how many times I would’ve loved to say ‘I don’t know’ or ‘I’ve had enough’? Because I always wanted to when I was out on the field as a sergeant, and there were times so badly where I wanted to step back but you don’t get that choice out there without consequences!” She swung her fist down on his table just to release some of the pressure that was building up inside her.  
“Let me train them Mcnamara, let me train them properly into strong soldiers-“

“Stop it, Schaffer! We don’t need to sink to the level of making kids fight in wars they don’t need to be in. We have more pride than that!” 

“Pride isn’t important John! power is important! And those cadets are full of potential if you just let me-“ 

“No.” It was more the daggers he was staring at her than the tone of his voice that stopped her. He wanted to hear no more, and that was final. With a sharp breath in she uncurled her fists and lay her hands back down by her side, nodding. “We’ve been through this too many times. Let’s just stick to what’s been planned, you don’t need to go creating your own rules.”

“But they’d work.”

“I don’t care if they’d work. That isn’t your problem,” stiffly, he sank down into his chair, still staring at her. “Just don’t- god, Schaeffer. Don’t pull a stunt like that again.”

“I wouldn’t have hurt him, General Mcnamara, I’m good with a sword, you just don’t let me show you that,” she stared him back, taking her sheath back off her belt, ready to show him if asked.

“I know, Schaffer. But we just don’t need that here, okay?”

She held back a growl, being a good colonel and nodding her head. “Understood, General. You won’t see it happening again.” She closed the door on her way out, letting that seething anger warm her up before shaking the noise out of her head. 

Yes, she was quite sure now. John Mcnamara couldn’t stay around much longer, for the good of PEIP, she told herself. John had to go.

———————————————————

Training ended officially at six, and offices stayed open for another four hours, but Schaffer was often in the gym until much later. 

It was the best use of her time, and it was a bit surprising how empty it tended to be at this hour when she knew it was too early to be sleeping. But at least it gave her time alone with her thoughts and helped sate some more violent urges that seemed to come up every time she had to fight with John.

She had a sort of visual plan mapped out in her head and sometimes she couldn’t help but go over it when she had time to let her mind wander. She couldn’t deny that there were gaps here and there in the story she was creating, but it always ended the same. With McNamara’s blood on her hands. 

Someone had to knock him off his throne and well god, it wasn’t like he was going to retire anytime soon was he? And people die in this line of work so often, it would be so easy to pull off, and so believable. And once everyone got over it, the whole of PEIP would turn into something so much better. 

Not a place for the soft or weak. More training hours, more focus on what was important. If she was in control, PEIP would be invincible. 

“General Schaffer,” she said to herself with a chuckle. She liked the ring it had. 

It was just the little things getting in her way though. What if he called for backup on the radio? And how could she get him to stay quiet? She knew she could always strike from behind, take care of him before he could shout, have it come straight out of the blue. But that idea was scrapped very early on. She wanted him to see who did it, and she wanted to see the fear in his eyes when he realises it’s his fault. That it wouldn’t have to be like this if he wasn’t so soft. If he spent more time teaching real skills instead of encouraging another biv or robotics course. She hadn’t picked the easiest path, but then again she never did. 

“Hey, colonel. At the punching bag again?” The door heaved open, distracting her from her ideas. 

“Officer Hurley,” she greeted, holding out her palms to catch the punching bag from swinging back. “I don’t usually see you up this late. Anything interesting on the radios tonight?”

“Hey. After I clock off it isn’t my problem,” he joked. “It‘s whoever’s is up next to listen to the next ten hours of radio silence,” he rolled his eyes as he set down his training bag on the bench.

“You don’t know who works after you?” She asked, letting go of the bag to swing a kick at it. 

“Hey, whoever it is always turns up late and I cannot stand another moment of just like, white noise.” 

“Hah. Okay.” The thought were coming back full force now, so much so she couldn’t actually think of a reply. “Are they always late?” 

“Well, I haven’t seen them show up on time in weeks now. They used to, but listening to that crackling for however many hours a day drives you insane. I don’t blame them.” He suddenly stopped himself, a tense laugh escaping his pursed lips. “I shouldn’t have said that. I’m sure it’s not a big gap, I mean, we aren’t missing anything.”

“Hey. It’s no big deal. Let’s just keep that between us hey, Hurley?” The next punch she delivered held far more power behind it. “Have a good night, alright? I’ve got some business to take care of before I can get to bed.” She snatched her uniform jumper up off the bench and burrowed through it as she left for the door. 

She stood at the corner of the hallway. On one end was McNamara’s office, on the other was the radio and comms command post office. One of the only offices to stay open twenty four seven.

She counted the time in her head. Three minutes and twenty seven seconds before someone walked through those doors. And that timer must’ve started as far back before Hurley even entered the gym. It was 11.10 now. That was ten minutes with the comms unguarded. 

It wasn’t until 11.30 though when McNamara’s own office door opened, the lights switching off inside. “Loitering, Schaffer?” His laugh was uncertain as he tested the terms they were on. 

“Just waiting for someone, General Mcnamara.” She dipped her head. “Have a good evening, sir.”

“Yeah. Let’s have a better day tomorrow alright?” He suggested with a hopeful smile before saluting her and heading the other way. 

Ten minutes of radio silence, and half an hour before anyone expected him back at the dorms.

Her heart wasn’t racing though, it was oddly calm. The gaps in the map in her mind were patching themselves up, and suddenly she could see the picture so much clearer. It was almost vivid, she could see the time on the clocks in her head, 11.01 exactly. 

She was close, but the map wasn’t quite finished just yet. 

But she had her eyes on that little gap. Ten minutes where there was no one at the office down the hall to hear his cries, no matter how loud he was and no matter where he was. Ten minutes where no one could help him, ten minutes that gave her the perfect gateway to do what she had to do. For the sake of PEIP.

Checkmate.


End file.
